I Want to See Itachi Uchiha Naked
by Itachi's Husband
Summary: [AU.] Itachi Uchiha's hair is always neatly groomed and smells like a crisp October morning, his clothes are pressed and free of wrinkles, he does everything effortlessly and nothing seems to rattle him. Almost perfect. Hair strewn wildly on the pillow, drenched with sweat, clothes discarded, eyes rolling back into his head as he screams my name. Perfection.


**Author's Note: So I've had this idea in mind for maybe over a year now...and the sad part is I started it but never finished the first chapter so I always forgot about it. And since I had the day off from work again today I thought "why not?" and I am much happier that it is out there for your viewing pleasure and has become a reminder for me to continue to work on it.**

 **Without further ado - I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters. All rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto**

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 _Dedicated to **The Secret Sal** \- whom I know will have some mixed feelings about this but hopefully gets a laugh out of it as well, and **Absolute Anarchy** whom I'm sure will read this snuggled up in the corner of the couch - I hope this story proves to be just as, if not more fun that Shisui's Guide to Being a Wingman and I hope that you like it!  
_

 _~M.R._

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 _11:47am - Lunch_

So this is gonna sound totally cliché, but whatever, there's no better way to say it: Have you ever wanted something more from life? Have you ever sat staring out a window, wondering what life is like outside the same boring gray walls that enclose you? Wanted to feel different from the way you normally feel on a day-to-day basis? Wanted to experience something more than the same old day-to-day routine that holds you down? I do.

"It's a good start." Sasori murmurs against his index finger.

As often as I've seen this trick before, I can't tell if he's being serious or not. "Really, yeah? You like it?"

Sasori doesn't say anything for a moment and keeps his eyes level with my essay. "Hm-hm. I have a few comments though."

I clasp my fingers together on the table's surface and lean forward. "Okay." Here we go.

"If you know it's going to sound cliché, why bother to even say it?"

"Well there's no better way to say it—"

Sasori shakes his head with a sigh. "If there wasn't a better way to say it, then every coming of age novel, teen romance movie, and self-help manual for empty-nesters would sound the same. That's the point of writing. To word things in a way that is unique to you and your experiences, Deidara."

"But that's not—"

"And why so many question marks?" Sasori presses. "Don't ask me questions. Show me what you're feeling."

"Okay, but that's kinda the point—"

"And you're reiterating yourself." He says, pointing to the end of the paragraph. "You've used day-to-day twice in a row. Don't do that."

He's got a point, I'll admit to that. "Give me a break, yeah! I didn't know how else to say it!"

"Then revise it, Deidara." He says and tosses the paper back in my direction.

I glance down at the white 8½ by 11 piece of paper, folded into sixteenths before me. Five minutes ago, I was proud of seventy-seven words gracing the top of the document. But as I stare at it now the tiny paragraph only seems to mock me. "Was there _anything_ you liked about it?" I ask him, my voice small and pinched.

"Hm?"

"You said it was a good start but you only criticized it. Was there _anything_ you liked about it, yeah?"

"I like the fact that you're not putting this paper off nearly as late as you put the last one off." He says without batting an eye.

"Fuck you!" I say, flipping him off.

"Tell me when and where and I'll be there, but on one condition – I'm on top." Sasori smirks.

I rise from my chair and playfully swipe at him, a move he effortlessly dodges. "I can't with you!"

"I can't help it that someone as inexperienced as yourself would be intimidated by my skills in the bedroom."

As much as I want to shoot back with an equally clever comeback, Sasori will just one-up me again and again until I run out of things to say. Over the past few weeks, I've learned that it's just better to feign annoyance and quit while I'm ahead.

"That's what I thought." Sasori says and leans forward in his seat. "So what was the purpose of this assignment again?"

"We're learning about biographies and autobiographies and instead of studying real autobiographies, our teacher wants us to write our own so that we can get a more 'hands-on approach.'" I say using air quotes.

"I thought autobiographies were supposed to be…boring. Like, 'I was born in the year 1876 in a small cottage in the town of Burning Well named after the disastrous burning of the town well two years prior; my mother was a seamstress and my father a locksmith—'"

"The assignment," I say, cutting him off, "is supposed to be _fun_ , my man. And who names a town 'Burning Well' anyways? Like what the heck?"

Sasori shrugs. "It could happen. So is she just giving you free reign on this assignment or what? Because I thought an autobiography was a description of your life from birth til present, not the makings of some pre-teen movie airing on TV."

As always, he doesn't get what "real art" is. And as always, it's up to me to educate him. "She just wants us to write about our lives. It doesn't have to be from the beginning until now because who remembers what it was like to be a baby, yeah?"

"I do."

I roll my eyes and continue as if he hasn't said anything. "But my life isn't really interesting."

"I can tell."

"I had a normal childhood like everyone else—"

"My childhood wasn't normal like everybody else's."

"Would you just shut up and listen to me for once!" I snap at him, whipping my head around to look him directly in the eyes with such force that my bangs bounce. "And then I ended up here and I haven't been here long enough for anything interesting to happen to me."

"Then wait until something does." Sasori says and I think it's the first helpful thing I've heard from him since I broached the topic of my assignment.

Well, it is and isn't helpful at the same time because while he's actually listening to what I'm saying now, it's not doing anything to actually help me. "That's the thing. I started the paper talking about how I want something to happen to me but nothing's actually happened to me yet. Nothing worth writing about at least." I say and tuck the folded piece of paper into the pockets of my trousers when I see him putting his lunch tray away. Across from me, Sasori's talking about something but I can't help but stare at the lean figure walking past our table, that elegant walk, those long legs, and that neatly groomed ebony hair pulled back into a neat pony-tail that swings like the pendulum of a grandfather clock as he walks by.

"—and are you even listening to me?"

It's as if I've been put into a trance and the snapping of Sasori's fingers are the only thing that can undo the spell. "Huh, what? Sorry, I wasn't listening, yeah."

"I see that." He grumbles. "And what the hell where you even looking at just now anyways?" He asks.

But I'm not listening anymore. He's since deposited his tray and is making his way back here with whom I assume to be his roommate who isn't bad looking either what with those broad shoulders and that show stopping smile. _Things would be a lot easier if he was out of the picture, no doubt about it._

"You've gotta be kidding me. You have a crush on Kisame Hoshigaki?"

"Is that his name?" I ask, suddenly keenly aware of Sasori's voice when he mentions that the name of the Godly creature that has appeared before my very own eyes. Catching myself, I retaliate "and I do not have a crush on him, yeah!"

"Oh pah-leeze. If I looked under the table right now I'm sure I'd see the tell-tale bulge in your—"

I cross my legs just as he leans over so that his head is beneath the surface of the table. Although I'm confident that there is no 'tell-tale bulge' where Sasori thinks there is, it won't be long before one forms there if I keep thinking about him. "You gotta admit, he's insanely attractive, yeah."

"I'd admit it only if I was attracted to him which I'm not." Sasori says. "But the blush gracing your cheeks begs to differ." He says before adopting a wicked grin. "Or begs for him to huskily whisper your name when you're on all fours before him in be—"

"Okay! I like him a little bit, yeah! Are you happy?!" I shout and stand up so fast to make my point that I knock my chair over. As I look around me, it's clear that I've attracted the attention of nearly everyone within ten feet of me and cautiously look over my shoulder to see if Kisame's heard me too. Peering beneath the golden curtain of my bangs (a perk of having long hair) I'm relieve to notice that he's still engrossed in whatever conversation his roommate is blabbing on about.

"He's out of your league." Sasori comments.

"He is not!"

"Is too."

I quickly pick up my chair and throw myself onto it with a huff. "I'll make you see. I'll make you eat your words, yeah."

"Do you know if he's even gay?"

"No but I—"

"Because if he's not gay you really don't have a chance. Unless you think you can convert him over to the dark side." Sasori says. "Which I doubt you will because I doubt he's gay."

"Well we won't know until we find out, yeah." I say and glance at him from beneath my bangs again.

"Well I've known him since freshman year and I can tell you that I've never seen him with another man, Deidara."

"Well maybe—" I begin to argue and realize that I don't have an argument to that. Sasori is three years my senior and probably knows everything about everyone here (except for the freshman of course). It's a miracle that we're even roommates since freshman are usually placed with other freshman. Be it a glitch in the housing selection system or an odd number of freshman – I don't know. Although Sasori is probably right, I can't help but seek out the truth for myself.

"That's the bell." Sasori notes, once again bringing me back to reality. "Coming lover boy?"

"Coming," I answer, too distracted by the way Kisame checks his watch to even be offended by the nickname.

 _16:53pm – Afternoon study hall._

It's funny. When you want something but don't say it out loud, it's just a dream. A fantasy. But once you voice your thoughts – your feelings – aloud, the game changes. Suddenly that thing that you thought was out of reach becomes possible. It takes over every thought you had until you spend every second of your day thinking about that one thing. It's no longer a fun daydream. It's become a mission.

"What do you think of it now, yeah?" I whisper to Sasori during afternoon study hall.

Sasori chews on his bottom lip, pretending to absorb the new words I've scrawled down since lunch time. "I'm impressed."

"Really?!" I squeal just loudly enough to show my excitement and just quietly enough so that I don't get in trouble with the librarian.

"Hm-hm." Sasori nods. "I'm impressed that in four hours' time you not took the initiative to revise what you had written, but that it's just as sappy as the last version I read at lunch."

Really? "Give me that!" I say and wretch the paper out of his hands.

"Ouch! You little bitch!" Sasori hisses as he presses his right index finger. Within seconds a tiny red bulb of blood begins to swell from the cut I've unintentionally caused. "Great, now I need to find a Band-Aid or something."

While I feel bad that I've hurt Sasori, my guilt is fleeting. His words hurt me first, so it's only fair that I hurt him back, even if I was never truly offended by his words in the first place. Karma is a bitch. That's all I can say.

"I think I have something here." I tell Sasori when he returns with a tissue wrapped around his finger. "I just need to find a way to put it into words."

"You're serious about this aren't you?"

"Well it's not due until October but it is a part of our mid-term grade." I say, working furiously to erase what I've written. "And since I suck at writing, I thought I'd get a head-start and—"

"Not the paper, dumbass! Kisame!"

I stop erasing for a second and stare into blank space before resuming again. "I want him, yeah."

Sasori crosses his arms and regards me with a look of skepticism. "That's just fantastic, but how are you going to make him want _you_ , Deidara?"

I think about this for a couple of moments and cross my arms. "I don't know, yeah." I tell Sasori evenly. "I only see him at lunch time but before now I haven't really put any effort into finding him elsewhere."

"He might not even like you, you know that right?"

"I mean, there's breakfast and dinner. Surely he eats breakfast and dinner right? I just gotta show up at the beginning of each and stay there the whole time until I see him show up, yeah!"

"So you're just going to sit there with your lunch and wait for him to show up? Then what?"

"I'll casually walk up to the table he's sitting at and ask to eat with him!"

Sasori rolls his eyes. "Yeah, because that's not awkward at all. And then what are you going to do?"

"I don't know, I'll figure that out later, yeah! But this is going to be great!"

Sasori shakes his head and flips through his history text book. "I think it's stupid."

 _18:16 - Dinner_

Five minutes into dinner time I've already devoured a quarter of my food and still no sign of Kisame.

"What the hell was that, Deidara?" Sasori hisses as he throws his lunch tray onto the table.

"What was what, my man?" I ask him while feverishly attempting to search for Kisame behind Sasori's head.

"You flying out of the library like a bat out of hell, Deidara! I knew you were missing a few screws but this is insane! Are you actually planning on stalking him during dinner time?"

I shrug. "Of course, yeah! When else am I going to have time to do it?"

Sasori looks around the room. "Oh, I don't know, next week, the week after that, next month even? I haven't heard one peep out of you about this guy before lunch time today and now you're throwing caution to the wind and approaching him without knowing anything about him?"

Just then, Sasori's words start to click as the most obvious realization dawns on me. Sasori's eyes widen as I reach forward and grab his biceps. "The answer has been in front of me all along!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"You, my man!"

"Me!?" Sasori balks and tries to dislodge me from his person.

"I don't know anything about Kisame because he's an upperclassman!"

"Yeah? And? Your point?"

"He's an upperclassman like you, my man!"

Sasori's brown eyes rapidly dart back and forth as if trying to determine the force driving my madness. "I don't understand and would you get off of me already!?"

I oblige and sit back in my own chair. "You said it yourself, yeah! You said in the three years you've known him you've never seen him with another man! You even knew his name, yeah!" I say and pick up the apple I had wanted to save until Kisame showed up.

Sasori stares at me as if I've got a frog's leg dangling from my lips. "Just because I know his name doesn't mean I know his life story. You know I hate people."

"But you know everything about everyone regardless and if you cared about my happiness you would tell me everything you know about Kisame Hoshigaki!"

The look I receive in response is sharp and full of distain. "Who said I cared about your happiness?"

"Sasori please!"

"Alright, fine!" He says in surrender. "If I tell you what I know will you stop whining like a spoiled brat?"

I nod vigorously, ready to absorb every ounce of information Sasori has for me.

He sits back in his chair and brings his leg up to rest on his left thigh. "I don't know what to tell you."

"Come on! Sasori! My man!"

"I don't know anything about him because I've never talked to him! Besides, guys like him don't talk to guys like me!"

"Start with that then!" I encourage.

"Start with what?"

"Guys like him! What does that mean?"

Sasori rolls his eyes, contemplating his answer. "Why me?" He mutters. "Ugh…let's see…for starters, he's an athlete."

"Okay." Athletics is a big part of our school. While students are not required to participate in any sports, such as Sasori, it is strongly encouraged. Knowing that Kisame is an athlete piques my interest, but does not tell me much.

"He's talkative. Which I find annoying."

"Okay." I wouldn't have pegged him for the talkative type. I was picturing him being dark and mysterious…a bad boy maybe.

"And he's loud."

"Really?" This is news to me, but I'll take whatever information I can get before I make my move.

"And that's about it."

My jaw drops. "Are you serious?! That's all you got!?"

"I told you I don't know anything about him! What more do you want from me!?"

I bring my hands to my face and count to ten. When I remove them, Kisame is walking by with his roommate beside him – I should've known he'd be eating lunch with him, darnit. "That's my cue."

"What?" Sasori asks. "Hey! Wait! where are you going!?"

I hear him, but my brain can't process what he's said. All I can think of is _"There he is. This is it. It's do or die time. Make it or break it. He will be mine."_

"—I mean, it's not as hard as I was expecting it to be… _yet_."

"You'll be fine." Kisame says and glances up when he's noticed my sudden appearance at the head of their table.

"Mind if I sit with you guys? I'm kinda new here." I say, playing the cute and innocent freshman card.

"Do you mind?"

Kisame shakes his head and pieces a couple of pieces of lettuce with his fork.

I delicately walk behind him, careful not to let our bodies touch because while I'd like nothing more, I fear that one touch will cause him to shatter into a million pieces and cease to exist which would thus end _my_ existence too. That and touching him after spending the afternoon thinking of nothing other than him all sweaty and panting my name would send me over the edge in a matter of seconds, thus ruining any chance of ever being together with him.

As I sit down, I observe how he brings his fork up to those perfect lips – not too plump, but not too thin either, and opens his mouth to expose straight, white teeth. Son of a dentist or son of an actor I decide. Or a really _really_ good brand of toothpaste.

"So you're a freshman this year?" His roommate asks me.

I force myself to make eye contact with him but find it hard to break away from the beautiful sight before me. "Y-yeah."

The roommate smiles (also a son of a dentist?) and asks me. "What's your name?"

"Deidara." I choke out. Am I really sitting beside such a magnificent creature right now? Before I know it, I've come face to face with a large, outstretched hand. "My name's Kisame."

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 **Sasori33-001**


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